


Rosemary and Thyme

by TheWordStringer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossroads, Demon Summoning, Drarry, Gay, Kinda Demon Summoning, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9574925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWordStringer/pseuds/TheWordStringer
Summary: "Do you know, if you go down to that crossroad by the woods, and if you bury a box with some specific things in, and if you say something in Latin, you can summon a demon. And if you're lucky, I mean if you're really lucky, and if you burn a bunch of rosemary, you might even be able to save him, pull him out of Hell. Did you know that, Harry? Did you?"





	

ROSEMARY AND THYME

one, rosemary and thyme

 

   "Do you know, Harry-"

   "Neville, c'mon mate. Let's be real here, I probably don't know whatever you're about to tell me."

   "Sorry. But seriously though. Do you know, if you go down to that crossroad by the woods, and if you bury a box with some specific things in, and if you say something in Latin, you can summon a demon. And if you're lucky, I mean if you're really lucky, and if you burn a bunch of rosemary, you might even be able to save him, pull him out of Hell. Did you know that, Harry? Did you?"

   "No, Neville, I didn't."

   "Well then. Now you do."

   "Yes. Now I do." Harry rolled his eyes and looked back down at his book he was studying.  _Flobbering Fibblers and Spangling Snakes_  by Luna Lovegood.The blonde really had out-done herself this time, and she had insisted Harry went through her book and gave her some 'honest feedback'.

   The book contained many facts on mythical magical creatures. It was much like  _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them_ in a way, the text-book written by her grandfather-in-law nearly a century earlier. Harry had just reached the page detailing the structures of a Peztica snout, when the blond man started talking in his ear again.

   "I think I might summon a demon. This weekend maybe. Are you free on Saturday? You could come with me if you want. You could watch me summon the demon. I have read so much about them. Oh, this will be so cool!"

   "Look, Neville," Harry started. "It isn't that I think it's a bad idea. Well no, it is that I think it's a bad idea. It's terrible. An absolutely terrible idea. What do you want to get out of this anyway? You'll have to sell your soul to the devil.  _The devil_ , Neville. Gawds, what happened to the spineless eleven-year-old boy I went to Hogwarts with?" 

   "I grew up and killed an evil snake. Oh, c'mon, Harry. It'll be fun!" He exclaimed, bounding from one sofa to another.

   "You're drunk."

   "I'm what?"

   "Drunk, most probably."

   "Naw I'm not."

   "Did you go out with Ginny again?"

   "I'm not drunk."

   "I'll have to have a word with her about taking you out for drinks. I asked her not to do it again after last time you got drunk. I ended up giving you a bath and you threw up in the water."

   "Not drunk, Harry. In fact, I'll prove it." He grinned, before turning around.

   Neville began walking in a straight line across the living room, and Harry was amazed that he wasn't actually, in fact, drunk at all. But when he expected him to stop, by the coat-stand, he didn't. Instead, Neville continued walking towards the front door. He grabbed his jacket off the banister, and picked up a small plastic bag from the bottom of the stairs that the dark-haired wizard hadn't noticed earlier.

  "Neville." Harry warned the older man. 

    _Oh no,_ he thought,  _Neville, don't you dare do what I think you're going to do._ But he did. He slipped his trainers on and walked off into the night.

   "Crap," Harry picked up his wand and ran out of the front door, dropping his pudding bowl in the process. He was startled by the biting cold wind blowing against the front of the house, but when he turned to nip back inside and get his coat, the door had already been slammed shut by the breeze. "Neville I am going to fricken kill you."

   He lit his wand carefully, but the light was inconsistent and The Boy Who Lived was quick to turn it out. 

   The light wasn't needed, anyway. The only thing it provided was comfort. Harry knew his way to the crossroad, and he also knew that was where Neville would be.

   He ran through the woods, cautious not to trip over the fallen trunks, bent over by the recent storm. The full moon beamed through the branches of the tall trees, no leaves hanging from them at this time of year. A wolf howled somewhere in the distance, away to the east. A werewolf? Probably not. No, there were others with it now. Definitely not a werewolf, then.

   There was a strong drum beat playing in his ears now, and his heart, the cause of all this rhythmical nonsense, lay heavy in his chest. He hated the intersection with a passion. No cars came down this way alongside the woods anymore, the result of many muggle myths and fantasies about this side of town.

   The crossroad was known for the many attempts at demon-summoning that had occurred there over the hundreds of years. And before the modern road was there, public hangings of so-called 'witches' arose at the exact point of intersection between the two roads.

  Harry stopped when he reached the place in question. Neville was crouched in the middle, grinning at him, a fire-eaten bag of herbs sat in front of him. 

   "Neville, c'mon. This is ridiculous. Let's go back now. It's dark and I'm cold, and I can imagine you must be, too."

   "No, this is fun. Oh, laugh a little, Harry!"

   "Neville-"

   "Look, I'll do the Latin spell, and then if it doesn't work, we can go home. Okay? Deal?"

   "Fine. Deal, but then we go."

   It was only then that Harry had his first look at the floor. In the middle of the large 'X', there was a patch where, instead of concrete, the road had a small circular area of soil. From the rounded appearance on the top, something had been buried underneath the surface.

   "A case," Neville spoke quietly. "It contains a picture of me, dirt from a graveyard, and cow milk. The rosemary is to save him. Or her. _Daemon, esto subjecto voluntati meae._ "

   A strange smoke began to arise from the centre of the intersection. The blond-haired boy took a step back, bumping into Harry. He tugged on the shoulder of the boy with the scar, and started running backwards.

   "Where are you going?" Harry yelled after him. "Neville, come back, for God's sake."

   But Neville was long-gone. Harry cursed many times in his head, and was about to run after his friend when he found himself rooted to the spot. The smoke was forming itself into a figure, it was gaining colour and losing that flaming greyish shade it held before. Not female, no. At least, it didn't appear to be. It was tall and slim, with short hair. Slowly, but surely, the features of a young male were forming among the thick, choking gas.

   He had blond hair, but not like Neville's blond. It was bright and shining in the moonlight from up above. His body was covered in long, tight black clothes, a shirt, jacket, and trousers. His skin was bloodless and as white as a sheet. As the fumes started to clear, Harry could see that he had long thin fingers and deep, lustrous, silvery eyes.

   Then the smog unloaded from the air completely, and the fallen angel fell again.


End file.
